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The  Function  of  the  Public  Library 
in  a  Democracy 

c3^  ToV^-v^     h.  ■^ 


Carnegie  Library  of  Pittsburgh 
1920 


135- 


An  address  delivered  by  John  H.  Leete, 
Director  of  the  Carnegie  Library  of  Pitts- 
burgh, at  the  annual  meeting  of  the  Penn- 
sylvania State  Educational  Association  in 
Philadelphia  in  December  19 19. 


Second  Edition 


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mtAif 

iCMOOi 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  THE  PUBLIC  LIBRARY 
IN  A  DEMOCRACY 

The  public  library  is  fundamentally  and  logically  a 
democratic  institution.  Established  by  municipal  or 
state  law  and  maintained  by  public  funds,  it  offers  to 
all  equal  privileges  under  as  few  restrictive  qualifica- 
tions and  requirements  as  are  consistent  with  efficient 
service.  The  inscription  found  upon  so  many  library 
buildings,  "Free  to  all  the  people,"  expresses  concisely 
and  literally  the  purpose  and  justification  of  the  li- 
brary's existence. 

But  even  an  institution  conceived  and  established 
in  such  a  democratic  atmosphere  may  fail  to  realize  its 
full  value  as  a  servant  of  the  democracy  which  created 
it.  Moreover,  conditions  change  rapidly — just  how 
rapidly  we  of  to-day  are  well  qualified  to  judge.  It  is 
therefore  not  only  proper  but  absolutely  necessary  that 
the  public  library  of  to-day  should  ask  itself  whether  it 
is  in  harmony  with  the  conditions  of  to-day  and  to  ex- 
amine searchingly  and  honestly  whether  it  is  returning 
full  value  and  its  highest  service  to  the  community 
which  maintains  it.  Nothing  less  than  that  high  stan- 
dard will  fulfil  the  obligation  to  democracy,  or  satisfy 
the  conscience  of  the  public  library. 

3 

443981 


There  js  nQ  occasion  to  speak  of  one  function  of  the 
o  z  i^t  library.  .  WCf  all  of  us,  know  its  value  as  a  recreational 
cc  c  .  'agt^ricy  m  the  cornmunity.  Indeed,  the  public  too  often 
regards  this  as  the  sole  purpose  of  the  library's  exist- 
ence. Too  many  think  of  it  as  a  place  where  one  may 
borrow  without  expense  the  transient  novel  that  he 
does  not  consider  worth  buying  for  himself.  Yet  that 
statement  is  hardly  fair  to  the  public  library,  cosmopol- 
itan and  charitable  as  it  must  be  to  satisfy  the  widely 
varying  tastes  of  its  community.  For  we  know  that 
even  a  public  library  exercises  some  discrimination  in 
the  choice  of  its  books,  and  it  does  try,  by  hook  and  by 
crook,  to  interest  readers  in  things  worth  reading.  In- 
deed, that  is  one  of  its  ways  of  serving  the  community. 
That  effort  is  not  always  successful,  however.  You 
recall  the  old  story  of  the  elderly  maiden  of  unsatisfied 
romantic  temperament  who  returned  to  a  city  library 
a  novel  by  Laura  Jean  Libbey  with  the  remark  that 
she  would  like  another  book  ''just  as  good."  The 
assistant,  with  an  eye  to  literary  uplift,  asked  if  she  had 
read  "The  Kentucky  Cardinal."  "Fm  not  fond  of 
theological  reading,"  was  the  reply.  ''But  this  car- 
dinal was  a  bird,"  said  the  persistent  assistant.  "That 
doesn't  commend  him  to  me,"  was  the  reply  as  she 
carefully  selected  another  volume  by  her  favorite  au- 
thor. 

That  incident  didn't  happen  in  Pittsburgh,  for, 
through  some  unaccountable  oversight,  no  alcove  in 
our  library  has  been  dedicated  to  Miss  Libbey.    I  wish 


that  I  might  say  that  on  our  shelves  there  are  no  books 
of  similar  flabbiness;  but  I  suppose  that  the  library, 
like  the  apothecary,  must  provide  ''pink  pills  for  pale 
people."  However,  it  is  a  comfort  to  remember  that 
the  same  twenty-six  letters  of  the  alphabet,  so  silly, 
simple,  and  meaningless  by  themselves,  which  com- 
pounded by  an  anemic  and  melancholic  sentimentalist 
give  us  a  product  which  almost  makes  us  regret  the 
invention  of  the  art  of  printing — these  same  twenty- 
six  simple  letters  in  the  hands  of  a  master  can  produce 
a  "Mill  on  the  Floss",  a  "Vanity  Fair",  "A  Tale  of 
Two  Cities",  a  "Les  Miserables."  The  library  possi- 
bly has  no  occasion  to  emphasize  its  function  as  a  re- 
creational agency,  but  it  certainly  does  not  need  to 
apologize  for  it.  In  this  day  of  hurry  and  bustle,  in 
this  day  of  work  and  struggle,  surely  the  diverting 
pleasure  and  the  inspiration  of  a  good  book  is  of  some 
value.  Moreover,  even  through  the  despised  door  of 
fiction  one  may  steal  a  glimpse  of  travel  and  of  history, 
of  philosophy,  and  even  of  religion,  which  may  attract 
us  into  more  instructive  fields. 

And  there  are  some  books  which  scarcely  deserve 
the  contumely  which  is  heaped  upon  the  much  abused 
fiction.  What  is  there  of  value  to-day  of  all  days,  in 
art,  in  science,  in  philosophy,  in  religion,  in  history, 
that  has  not  found  a  place  in  the  printed  page!  We 
have  left  far  behind  the  day  when  the  statesman  and 
the  philosopher  depended  upon  the  spoken  word ;  when 
the  poet's  audience  w^as  limited  by  the  small  circle  his 


song  could  reach;  when  it  was  necessary  to  travel  to 
the  dark  continent  to  know  it;  when  one  had  to  visit 
the  Panama  Canal  to  understand  its  construction.  To- 
day the  arctics  and  the  tropics,  the  Occident  and  the 
Orient,  the  city  and  the  desert,  are  brought  to  our  very 
firesides.  We  may  even  visit  other  worlds  with  New- 
ton and  Herschel.  Not  only  space,  but  the  limitations 
of  time  also  are  annihilated.  Through  books  we  may 
live  in  the  times  of  Caesar  and  Ptolemy,  we  may  have 
the  counsel  of  Confucius  and  Solomon,  we  may  dis- 
cover a  new  world  with  Columbus,  we  may  fight  by 
the  side  of  Alexander  and  Napoleon,  we  may  see  the 
visions  of  the  Crusaders  and  of  Joan  of  Arc.  We  may 
know  the  men  of  all  ages  more  intimately  than  even 
their  contemporaries  knew  them.  Through  books  all 
the  accomplishments  and  failures  of  many  generations 
of  men,  all  their  hopes  and  their  fancies,  their  beliefs 
and  their  doubts,  are  available  for  our  understanding 
and  progress.  Truly  the  library  is  a  wonderful  treas- 
ure-house of  knowledge  that  has  in  it  many  possibilities 
for  personal  culture  and  abundant  opportunities  for 
practical  service.  Under  date  of  December  fifth  of 
this  year  Mrs.  Rinehart  writes :  "I  am  constantly 
amazed  by  the  efficiency  of  the  Reference  Department, 
on  which  I  have  made  frequent  demands,  and  which 
has  never  failed  to  give  me  more  than  I  have  requested. 
I  have  taxed  it  sometimes,  but  there  seems  to  be  no 
subject  from  Clothes  to  Cannibals,  from  Dogs  to  Dog- 
matism, from  Zoology  to  Zymotic  Diseases  (which  is 


the  very  last  article  in  the  Encyclopaedia  Britannica), 
which  the  library  cannot  supply.  It  is  a  storehouse  of 
frightful  and  incredible  facts.  It  knows  a  tremendous 
amount,  and  quite  frequently  I  take  what  it  knows, 
twist  it  about  a  bit  and  sell  it  as  original  material  by 
Mary  Roberts  Rinehart." 

Yes,  all  the  materials  for  service,  for  big  service, 
are  available.  But  if  this  treasure,  this  raw  material 
for  service,  is  to  be  a  potent  factor  in  this  practical 
world,  if  it  is  to  be  a  useful  agency  in  democracy,  the 
library  must  be  more  than  a  storehouse  of  treasure,  it 
must  be  a  laboratory  for  instruction  and  research.  It 
must  not  be  a  thing  like  one's  religion,  too  often  drawn 
upon  only  on  Sundays  and  holidays.  It  must  not  be  a 
place  to  be  visited  only  when  there  is  no  other  place  to 
go,  or  nothing  else  to  do.  It  must  go  hand  in  hand 
with  the  interests  of  the  community  and  the  work  of 
the  community.  It  must  be  a  part  of  the  day's  work 
and  the  day's  play  of  the  individual  members  of  the 
community.  Its  material  must  be  organized — and  or- 
ganized in  such  a  way  that  the  library  becomes  a  useful 
and  recognized  complement  to  all  the  neighborhood 
interests,  activities,  and  industries.  The  library  must 
not  stand  alone,  but  must  form  intimate  associations 
with  other  community  agencies  and  through  them 
and  with  them  find  a  definite  work  to  do. 

The  school  is  the  social  organ  established  by  the 
state  to  direct  the  conservation  and  development  of  the 
most  valuable  of  its  resources,  the  youth  of  the  nation. 


"To  make  democracy  safe  for  the  world"  we  have  es- 
tabHshed  at  enormous  pubhc  expense  a  system  of  free 
schools  for  both  the  betterment  of  the  individual  and 
the  safeguarding  of  the  state.  In  this  w^ork  the  library 
can  be  of  vital  assistance  to  the  school  by  bringing  the 
wealth  of  its  material  to  enrich  and  broaden  the  formal 
courses  of  study.  Interest  and  even  enthusiasm  may 
be  created  in  a  tedious  task,  by  bringing  dry  facts  into 
relation  with  the  forces  and  conditions  affecting  hu- 
man life  and  activity.  Much  has  been  done  in  this  di- 
rection within  the  last  score  of  years.  I  remember 
full  well  the  absurdities  of  the  old  style  courses  in 
geography  with  which  the  earlier  generation  was  af- 
flicted, ^ours  were  spent  in  learning  to  bound  the 
states  in  the  Union,  but  of  the  essential  facts  in  the 
physical  life  of  those  states,  of  their  climate,  their 
soil,  their  products,  their  manufactures,  the  character 
of  their  population,  their  railroad  facilities  and  water- 
ways, we  learned  nothing.  Idaho  was  to  us  a  green 
area  on  a  perfectly  flat  surface  surrounded  by  other 
areas  of  different  colors.  Moreover,  we  came  to  have 
a  real  distrust  of  the  accuracy  of  that  text  from  the 
fact  that  we  knew  that  our  own  state  of  Michigan  was 
not  really  pink  as  it  was  represented,  but  had  a  coat 
of  many  colors  in  which  the  greens,  or  reds,  or  browns 
predominated  with  the  changing  seasons  of  the  year. 
And  in  history ;  that  wonderful  study  of  the  origin 
and  development  of  the  individual  and  the  race,  of 
their  work  and  their  play,  their  ambitions  and  their 

8 


appetites,  their  arts  and  their  Hterature,  their  crafts 
and  their  inventions,  their  commerce  and  their  laws, 
their  philosophy  and  their  religion,  and  incidentally, 
but  only  incidentally,  their  battles  and  their  wars! 
History — captivating,  romantic,  and  red-blooded,  so 
full  of  adventure  and  inspiring  achievement — was  re- 
duced to  the  dry  husks  of  dates  of  wars  and  battles, 
arbitrary  and  often  partisan  statements  of  their  causes 
and  effects,  and  the  empty  names  of  rulers  and  gen- 
erals. 

And  the  study  (?)  of  the  English  language!  That 
wonderful  vehicle  for  revealing  thought,  or  for  con- 
cealing it,  with  its  infinite  variations  in  style,  now 
striking  with  the  sledge-hammer  blows  of  a  Macaulay, 
now  caressing  with  the  delicate  touch  of  a  Keats  or  of 
a  Wordsworth ;  with  its  palette  of  many  colors  for  the 
painting  of  pictures  for  the  inner  eye;  with  its  thou- 
sands of  sparkling  jewels  of  prose  and  of  verse.  Even 
English  may  be  and  often  is  a  dull  thing  of  parsing 
and  of  diagrams,  and  of  them  only. 

And  so  I  might  take  up  in  detail  the  other  subjects 
of  our  formal  courses  of  study,  but  you  already  see 
the  point  I  am  trying  to  make.  The  library  has  some- 
thing to  contribute  to  the  formal  courses  of  study  in 
our  schools — something  vitalizing,  something  inspiring, 
something  broadening  for  teacher  and  pupil  alike.  A 
single  text-book  is  a  genuine  source  of  danger  in  the 
class  room.  "One-book''  education  is  apt  to  mean  nar- 
rowness, shallowness,  pedantry,  partisanship,  lack  of 


interest,  and  an  entirely  unwarranted  satisfaction  in  the 
completeness  of  the  pupils'  education.  ''One-book"  ed- 
ucation means  that  useless  thing,  a  finished  education. 
Let  us  substitute  for  one  book,  many  books,  and  so 
obtain  the  perspective  which  makes  mere  facts  valu- 
able. Let  us  bring  the  library  to  the  school  through 
many  books,  by  reading  and  story  hours,  and  even  by 
admitting  under  proper  precautions  that  dangerous 
person,  the  local  librarian.  Let  us  bring  the  school  to 
the  library  by  individuals  and  by  classes. 

But  the  school  is  expected  to  teach  other  things 
than  arithmetic,  spelling,  English,  and  geography. 
We  have  had  too  recently  a  disastrous  example  of  the 
futility,  nay,  the  danger,  of  expecting  mere  formal 
learning  to  guarantee  that  social  justice  and  righteous- 
ness which  must  prevail  if  democracy  is  to  live.  And 
how  may  patriotism  and  courage  and  loyalty  be  taught 
better  than  by  the  lives  and  deeds  of  the  hieroes  of  all 
ages!  I  have  seen  ideals  of  good  sportsmanship  es- 
tablished firmly  and  permanently  in  the  mind  of  a 
twelve  year  old  boy  by  stories  of  minor  heroes  in  the 
athletic  world.  And  the  other  virtues  of  character! 
What  a  wealth  of  material  is  contained  in  the  library's 
world  of  books!  And  his  outlook  upon  the  future, 
his  future,  his  vision  of  the  part  he  is  to  play  in  the 
great  drama  of  life — a  thing  the  boy  can't  bring  him- 
self to  put  into  cold  words — ^but  about  which  he  won- 
ders and  dreams.  What  for  him  can  take  the  place  of 
inspiring  biography  or  the  more  directly  practical  book 


10 


on  the  vocational  fields  ?  Yes,  the  library  has  much  to 
contribute  to  the  rounding  out  and  humanizing  and 
practicalizing  and  idealizing  of  school  life.  President 
Harper  was  right  when  he  said,  "In  the  really  modern 
(educational)  institutions,  the  central  building  is  the 
library." 

The  great  contribution  of  the  public  library  to  the 
life  of  democracy,  however,  is  made  after  the  pupil  has 
finished  his  formal  schooling.  Indeed,  without  under- 
estimating the  value  of  the  library  as  a  complement  to 
the  school,  I  believe  it  may  fairly  be  said  that  the  great- 
est benefit  obtained  from  bringing  the  school  to  the 
library  and  the  library  to  the  school  is  found  in  the 
impetus  it  gives  the  graduate  of  the  school  to  use  the 
library.  Just  a  few  days  ago  a  man  prominent  in  the 
work  of  the  Catholic  War  Reconstruction  Board  said 
to  me,  "I  don't  think  much  of  the  education  of  a  boy 
who  doesn't  graduate  from  the  school  into  the  library," 
and  of  course,  I  agreed  with  him.  You  may  conclude 
that  I  have  lost  my  sense  of  perspective.  Objects  near 
our  particular  point  of  vision  do  loom  large.  We 
should  hesitate  to  agree  that  "the  greatest  calamity 
suffered  by  the  world  in  the  last  century  was  the  in- 
vention of  the  safety  razor."  But  the  man  who  said  it 
believed  it — he  was  a  barber.  So  you  may  think  that  I 
am  magnifying  the  value  of  the  library  to  the  com- 
munity ;  but  is  that  the  fact  ? 

Records  show  that  the  average  American  boy  goes 
to   school,   or   more   accurately   speaking,   is   sent   to 


II 


school,  for  a  period  of  less  than  six  years.  It  is  true 
that  the  state  provides  the  opportunities  of  free  ed- 
ucation for  a  much  longer  period,  but  the  average  boy 
either  cannot  or  will  not  take  advantage  of  the  oppor- 
tunities offered.  It  may  be  his  lack  of  aptitude  for 
study;  it  may  be  just  the  restlessness  that  comes  with 
the  growing  pains  of  youth ;  it  may  be  the  sheer  force 
of  circumstances;  it  may  be  the  positive  command  of 
duty  that  draws  or  drives  him  from  the  school-house. 
It  is  not  my  province  to  advance  any  theory  of  the 
cause  of  this  unfortunate  situation  or  to  propose  any 
remedy  to  cure  it.  I  shall  not  even  consume  your 
time  with  lamentations,  but  shall  simply  state  the  fact. 
The  door  of  the  school-house  closes  to  the  great 
majority  of  the  children  of  our  democracy  at  the  end 
of  six  brief  years. 

We  have  learned,  it  is  true,  to  concentrate  a  good 
deal  of  information  and  some  training  in  the  period 
allotted  us.  It  is  not  all  that  might  be  given,  even  in  the 
best  schools,  because  of  imperfections  of  teachers  and 
methods.  We  do  not  do  all  that  might  be  done  for 
any  particular  individual,  because  in  the  school  we 
must  teach  not  individuals  but  classes.  But  let  us 
suppose  that  we  have  that  millennial  combination,  a 
model  school  and  a  model  group  of  students — what 
subjects  can  be  covered  under  ideal  conditions  in  those 
short  six  years?  Arithmetic,  spelling,  some  English 
grammar,  a  little  geography  and  less  history,  and 
possibly  a  delicate  smattering  of  another  subject  or 


12 


two  which  for  the  time  being  constitutes  the  accepted 
cure-all  for  ignorance  or  the  approved  recipe  for  cul- 
ture. With  that  modicum  of  learning,  this  boy  of 
ours  goes  from  the  school-house  back  to  the  farm,  to 
the  mill,  to  the  factory,  to  the  shop,  to  the  thousands  of 
occupations  in  our  widely  diversified  civilization  in 
which  unskilled  labor  finds  its  humble  place.  He  be- 
comes one  of  the  thousand  men  of  the  dinner  pail  that 
we  pass  on  the  streets  of  our  large  cities.  The  ques- 
tion that  comes  to  the  minds  of  all  socially  minded  men 
and  women  is  this:  Is  this  short  school  training 
sufficient  for  the  boy's  needs  ?  Is  it  sufficient  for  his 
needs  as  a  wage  earner?  Will  it  make  him  a  happy, 
contented,  and  useful  man?  Is  this  school  training 
of  itself  sufficient  to  meet  his  needs  as  a  citizen?  Does 
it  meet  the  requirements  of  democracy? 

There  can  be  but  one  answer  to  that  question,  and 
that  answer  is  No.  Economically,  with  that  amount 
of  training  and  that  only,  the  boy  is  doomed  as  a 
wage  earner  to  routine  tasks  that  can  only  bring  happi- 
ness and  contentment  with  the  deadening  of  his  ambi- 
tion. With  that  amount  of  training  alone  and  without 
the  incentive  to  carry  on  his  mental  development  in 
some  direction  and  by  some  means,  the  boy  suffers  an 
intellectual  death.  As  a  man,  he  becomes  one  of  those 
disappointed,  discontented  individuals  for  whom  hap- 
piness is  impossible  in  this  world  or  the  next.  As  a 
citizen,  he  is  apt  to  become  one  of  the  mob — unreason- 
ing,  destructive,  the  prey  of  the  agitator  and  dem- 

13 


agogue — who  make  democracy  a  menace.  No,  the 
school  cannot  finish  its  contract  to  make  men  and  citi- 
zens in  six  short  years  of  training ;  it  can  only  start  the 
job.  To  that  training  in  the  use  of  the  tools  of  educa- 
tion must  be  added  an  incentive  to  further  study,  an 
inspiration  to  learning.  It  is  this  incentive,  this  inspi- 
ration, which  constitutes  the  greatest  contribution  of 
the  public  school  to  democracy.  With  it  even  the  boy 
of  limited  school  training  may  go  far.  Without  it, 
even  the  university  graduate  is  in  danger  of  proving  a 
failure. 

There  are,  of  course,  many  factors  that  make  for 
the  development  of  the  boy  or  the  man  after  he  has 
graduated  from  the  public  school  or  the  university. 
Contact  with  men  of  brains ;  social  activities ;  business 
associations  and  competition ;  the  organized  training  of 
continuation  schools,  extension  courses,  and  study 
clubs ;  and  many  other  agencies  combine  to  broaden  his 
understanding  and  sharpen  his  intellect.  In  this  pro- 
gram surely  there  is  some  place  for  the  printed  page — 
the  printed  page  that  played  so  important  a  part  in  the 
greatness  of  Lincoln,  and  Franklin,  and  Herbert  Spen- 
cer, and  Stanley,  and  Faraday,  and  Edison,  for  all  of 
whom  the  door  of  the  school  was  never  fairly  open. 

"All  information  in  print  must  be  readily  accessible 
to  all  the  community"  is  the  educational  slogan  of  the 
public  library  of  to-day.  It  is  this  program  which  has 
given  it  the  title  of  the  "People's  University."  The 
teacher  who  classifies  and  evaluates  education  and  ed- 

14 


ucational  institutions  solely  upon  their  entrance  re- 
quirements, may  question  the  library's  right  to  be  called 
a  university,  since  the  only  qualifications  for  admit- 
tance we  demand  are  the  ability  to  read,  and  a  thirst 
for  knowledge.  It  has  no  attendance  regulations  and 
no  examinations.  Nor  can  the  library  base  its  claim  to 
the  title  "university"  upon  the  prerogative  of  granting 
that  summum  bonum  of  higher  education,  the  college 
degree.  The  library  uses  no  hall-mark  of  learning. 
Indeed,  its  ambition  is  never  to  graduate  a  student. 
We  shall  have  to  admit,  also,  that  our  courses  are  ex- 
tremely irregular;  they  vary  in  length  from  a  few 
hours  to  months,  or  even  years,  of  study.  Nor  have 
we  a  fixed  program  of  studies ;  they  are  all  electives, 
and  we  are  so  unconventional  as  to  offer  instruction  in 
any  subject  upon  the  application  of  a  single  student! 
Nor  are  we  committed  to  any  religion  or  to  any  school 
of  thought.  Judged  by  these  conventional  standards, 
it  is  true  that  the  library  would  have  difficulty  in  gain- 
ing acceptance  as  a  bona  fide  university. 

Notwithstanding  these  deficiencies  in  academic 
standards,  the  library  has  a  real  claim  to  the  title  of 
''People's  University."  It  has  for  its  faculty  the 
master  minds  not  only  of  to-day  but  of  yesterday. 
True,  the  inspiration  of  their  physical  presence  is  lack- 
ing, but  the  structures  into  which  they  put  their  best 
thoughts  and  efforts  are  still  standing,  the  fabric  into 
which  was  woven  the  real  expressions  of  their  inner 
lives   and   ideals   remains.    And  Avho   shall   deny  the 

15 


inspiration  of  the  masterpiece  even  though  the  master 
be  gone.  The  many  residents  of  our  colleges  who  pass 
in  a  desultory  way  through  the  successive  stages  of 
culture  denominated  as  freshman,  sophomore,  junior, 
and  senior,  whose  degree  of  attainment  is  indicated 
solely  by  the  color  of  the  cap  they  wear  and  finally  by 
the  bachelor's  gown,  may  fail  to  find  in  the  library 
their  sole  incentive  to  learning,  the  big  stick  of  the 
Dean ;  but  the  genuine  student  will  find  there  not  only 
the  raw  materials  of  learning  but  the  inspiration  as 
well.  The  library  is  one  democratic  institution  for  the 
best  and  most  genuine  education,  self  education. 

We  shall  have  to  admit,  however,  that  the  enroll- 
ment of  students  in  the  "People's  University"  has  not 
been  at  all  commensurate  with  the  service  it  stands 
ready  to  offer.  The  public  library  always  has  been 
and  always  will  be  the  resort  of  the  bookish  man — but 
bookish  people  do  not  constitute  the  majority  of  the 
community.  We  have  a  service  to  offer  the  non-book- 
ish man — the  man  who  has  not  learned  the  value  of  the 
printed  page  in  solving  present  day  problems.  What 
are  we  doing  for  him?  There  is  a  great  industry  in 
our  neighborhood.  Have  we  the  material  on  our 
shelves  that  will  interest  and  benefit  the  ambitious 
workman  in  that  plant?  Not  the  exhaustive  treatise, 
but  the  readable  elementary  book  which  tells  in  a  sim- 
ple way  the  science  and  the  facts  of  the  job  he  is  doing 
for  his  daily  bread.  Possibly  we  have  that  material — 
but  does  the  workman  know  it?    He  will  not  know  it 

i6 


through  unattractive  book  Hsts  on  the  Hbrary  desk, 
which  are  free  to  the  pubhc  but  which  the  pubhc  do 
not  take  freely.  Something  must  go  to  that  man  in  his 
shop — something  that  will  arouse  his  curiosity  and 
stimulate  his  interest.  It  may  be  an  attractive  circular, 
it  may  be  a  photostat  copy  of  a  page  of  a  work  or  of 
a  machine,  posted  on  the  bulletin  board — -not  the  bul- 
letin board  of  the  library,  but  of  the  shop.  The  mes- 
sage of  the  definite  service  the  library  can  render  him 
must  be  delivered  to  him  at  his  bench.  And  when  he 
comes  to  the  library  in  response  to  that  personal  mes- 
sage, he  must  have  placed  in  his  hands  the  book  that  we 
have  told  him  is  waiting  for  him.  Any  other  service 
will  result  in  his  first  visit  to  the  library  becoming  his 
last  pilgrimage  to  that  shrine. 

To  render  this  particular  service,  the  librarian  must 
know  his  community — not  only  the  part  that  comes  to 
the  library,  but  the  part  that  never  comes — the  whole 
community — its  interests,  its  work,  its  play,  its  prob- 
lems. That  means  that  the  library  must  be  an  active 
community  center,  a  place  where  the  many  civic  and 
welfare  activities  gather,  an  organization  which  touches 
the  many  sided  life  of  the  community.  This  cannot  be 
accomplished  by  simply  wishing  it ;  it  can  come  only  as 
the  result  of  work — hard  work — and  that  hard  work 
can  only  be  done  effectively  by  a  systematic  plan  and  or- 
ganization. It  must  be  someone's  business,  not  every- 
one's ideal.  Just  how  this  may  best  be  accomplished 
for  a  particular  library  depends  upon  the  community, 

17 


the  organization,  the  problem.  In  Pittsburgh  we  have 
adopted  the  plan  of  a  community  work  committee. 
It  is  the  function  of  that  committee  to  co-ordinate  the 
work  of  the  various  Library  agencies,  to  keep  all  agen- 
cies informed  of  the  methods  found  effective  by  any 
single  worker  or  agency,  to  devise  ways  and  means  of 
solving  special  problems  as  well  as  of  systematizing  the 
community  work  in  general.  It  is  a  clearing  house  of 
community  methods  and  work  that  has  proved  very 
effective  in  our  library.  Let  me  mention  just  a  few 
things  it  has  done  and  is  doing.  Under  its  direction 
data  has  been  collected  concerning  the  many  organiza- 
tions of  the  city,  and  as  a  result  the  Library  is  an  infor- 
mation center  for  all  civic  and  welfare  w^ork.  At 
frequent  intervals  representatives  of  these  organiza- 
tions present  to  a  group  of  Library  workers  the  pur- 
pose and  plan  of  their  work.  In  every  instance  the 
Library  has  found  some  means  of  serving  these  organ- 
izations, a  service  that  in  every  case  has  been  cordially 
welcomed.  The  Library  is  also  carrying  on  extensive 
community  work  of  its  own.  Travel  clubs,  debating 
clubs,  current  events  clubs  have  been  formed  by  the 
Library,  and  many  other  outside  clubs  and  societies 
use  the  Library  buildings.  Stories  are  told  and  book 
talks  are  given  not  only  in  the  Library  and  at  the 
schools,  but  in  commercial  plants,  settlement  houses, 
and  other  charitable  institutions.  Effective  American- 
ization work  is  being  carried  on — a  campaign  of  in- 
struction for  the  foreign  born  that  is  not  confined  to 

i8 


the  four  walls  of  the  Library,  but  carries  its  message 
of  understanding  and  of  instruction  to  the  home  by 
personal  visits  as  well  as  by  the  printed  page.  Many 
are  the  expedients  used  by  the  Library  in  its  attempt 
to  be  of  real  service  to  all  the  varied  interests  of  the 
community.  It  has  been  possible  to  accomplish  but  a 
small  part  of  the  work  that  has  opened  up  before  us; 
but  small  as  it  has  been,  it  has  been  sufficient  to  prove 
not  only  the  value  of  community  work  in  itself,  but 
also  its  value  in  making  the  more  conventional  forms 
of  library  service  effective.  It  has  also  proved  of  great 
value  in  establishing  the  Library  in  the  community  as 
a  community  necessity. 

The  possibilities  of  the  library  seem  almost  limit- 
less. Certainly  they  are  far  greater  than  we  have  yet 
realized.  But  you  say,  how  can  the  library  with  its 
limited  staff  and  still  more  limited  funds  undertake  a 
work  of  such  magnitude.  If  we  had  a  larger  staff,  if 
we  had  a  better  trained  staff,  if  we  had  more  books, 
if  we  had  many  things  which  we  would  like  to  have 
and  which  we  ought  to  have,  what  a  work  we  could 
do!  But  all  these  things  spell  money.  And  those  five 
letters  do  not  occur  often  in  the  library  vocabulary. 
That  is  true — no  one  knows  it  better  than  we  do  in 
Pittsburgh.  We  do  need  more  money  for  the  bigger 
job — but  the  surest  way  to  get  more  money  is  to  start 
the  bigger  job. 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  paths  of  service  open  to 
the  public  library.    Of  the  need  of  that  service,  partic- 

19 


ularly  in  the  unsettled  and  perplexing  and  critical  con- 
ditions of  to-day,  there  can  be  no  question.  The  prob- 
lems to  be  settled  are  economic,  racial,  political,  voca- 
tional, educational;  and  in  all  these  fields  the  library 
is  pre-eminently  qualified  and  equipped  to  render  most 
valuable  service  to  democracy.  As  a  recreational 
agency,  as  an  information  center,  and  as  an  educational 
institution  it  has  not  only  an  opportunity  but  an  ob- 
ligation to  fulfil. 

You  remember  the  incident  of  the  demagogue  in 
the  French  Revolution  who  said,  "There  go  the  people ; 
let  us  hurry  and  overtake  them — I  am  their  leader." 
Let  us  not  be  content  with  the  kind  of  leadership  that 
follows ;  let  us  stand  for  the  leadership  that  leads. 


20 


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::   ■ 

APR  4  1941 M 

APR  AS  1941 

* 

Binder 

Gaylord  Bros..  Inc. 

Stockton,  Calif. 
T.  M.  Reg.  U.S.  Pat.  Off. 


I  yj      iw 


2  ^^r~ 
L3r 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CAUFORNIA  LIBRARY 


